


The Arkadias

by rosymamacita



Series: Here We Are Now Entertain Us [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 90s AU, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bars and Pubs, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, Modern AU, New York City, endgame bellarke, i forgot that not all of you know how very bellarke i am, past raven/finn - Freeform, so they're free to date whoever, they're not exclusive, those are the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-10-15 21:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosymamacita/pseuds/rosymamacita
Summary: Clarke is having fun after college, living in NYC, waiting tables, being an artist. When Bellamy Blake, her old college friend, runs into her and invites her to join a writing workshop, she thinks it's awesome. What a chance to do what she wants to do, hang out with new friends and flirt with Bellamy.They fall easily into a friends with benefits relationship that is great, really it's great. She can totally control these feelings for him that are growing.It's not a problem. And it's not love.She's got it all under control.lolBellamy's POV in "Just Having Fun" http://archiveofourown.org/works/11076246/chapters/24704415





	1. Life Walked By

**Author's Note:**

> Please take note of the rating. This is a *Mature* work. Not only for the (non graphic) sex, but also for the mature themes. This is a complex, non-idealized version of love. They make choices that are not the best choices. They do things that are borne out of fear, selfishness and anger. They are using sex as a pleasure, a tool and even a weapon. This is not a fluffy fic where everyone is perfect with only acceptable flaws, and it is not written for children.
> 
> If you are not okay with gray morality and imperfect human beings then this is not the story for you, and I am probably not the author for you.

Clarke stood in the open door way of Cafe Trikru, leaning her hips up against the glass of the door, watching the street traffic. It was busy. Taxis and trucks stopping and starting at the lights. Pedestrians walking fast. Or standing and gawking at Greenwich Village, getting in the way of the fast walking pedestrians, who grumbled and cursed and tried to get through. It was all very active and fascinating. She loved people watching.

Good thing, because this cafe was dead. Dead. Dead. She had one customer, a regular, who sat in the back over one cup of espresso, reading the paper, and glaring if she dared to bother him. And the barista, Nyko, napping behind the counter. She stuffed her hands in her little waitress apron which was barely shorter than her miniskirt. The boss made her wear miniskirts, because that was what waitresses wore. And because he was an old school tyrant, who wanted everything in his cafe his way. It was a blow to her feminism, but arguing with Titus was a good way to get herself fired.

So she didn’t argue. She pulled on doc martin shit kicker boots and stomped about the cafe swishing her miniskirt, just to shove it in Titus’s face, but she didn’t argue. She just thought silently about how her mom believed a job waiting tables in some bohemian village cafe was beneath her. But she was living a life she wanted to live. She was painting and writing poetry and that’s who she was.

Clarke flipped open her order pad. She was working on a poem right now. About what it was like to be in a new city, free, and alone. She missed her mom, even if they couldn’t see eye to eye on this. She missed her friends. They didn’t come with her. She even missed her ex girlfriend Lexa, even though their relationship had exploded so badly, that they became infamous on campus. She still missed believing in someone so much that you wanted to spend all your time with them and become that person they wanted you to be. 

She stopped writing. The poem was turning into something darker than freedom and loneliness. That was not what she intended. She flipped the page and started over again. Maybe it was about the people passing on the street, living their lives, never knowing anyone.

 

“Clarke?”

She looked up. A man in sunglasses stood in front of her on the sidewalk. Broad shoulders. Wildly curling hair that brushed the mirrored lenses, before he took them off and grinned at her. “Clarke Griffin?”

She blinked. 

“Bellamy?” She knew him. 

He laughed and stepped right up to her and wrapped his arms around her in an enveloping hug. It was too quick. She’d hardly registered that this was her friend from college, who’d graduated two years ahead of her, before he stepped back.

Wow. She didn’t remember his smile being so dazzling. “What—“ she swallowed, “what are you doing here? Did I know you were from New York?”

He laughed, twirled his sunglasses on their stem. “I’m not. I moved here after graduation. I’ve got an apartment down the street. “What about you? I thought you were from uptown, right? Where all the rich kids are from…” he used to tease her about being a princess, she remembered. “But you’re here…” she saw him glance briefly at her waitress apron, then look around at the dead cafe.

“Oh, yeah,” Clarke looked at her combat boots. “Uhm. I’m not going to med school.”

“ That’s right. You were going to be a doctor. I forgot. That was your burning ambition in life,” he smirked at her. “I remember that short story you wrote about the med student trying to save that kid from radiation poisoning after a nuclear war.”

Clarke felt a blush rise to her cheeks. She had gotten so invested in writing that story for creative writing class her sophomore year. She’d done all the research on the medical aspects, the psychological aspects, but what it came down to was she loved falling into a world and letting the magic take her, not the science. “You remember that? It was so long ago.”

“It was a great story. I remember thinking you’d be wasting your talent becoming a doctor, but that was a totally selfish thought. I mean, doctors save lives.”

Clarke laughed. “I moved down town and got a job waiting tables so that I could focus on my art. I’m mostly painting now.”

His smile lit up his face. “No more writing?”

She laughed again and held up her order pad with its poem scrawled across the places she was supposed to write number of customers and total the bill. “Still writing,” she said.

He raised one eyebrow and smirked at her. “Can I read it?”

Her heart stuttered in her chest. It was about Lexa. About how she tore her apart. About how she was trying to start over in this little cafe, doing nothing until life walked by.

“What’s the matter, Clarke, don’t you trust me anymore?”

And then she remembered. That poetry workshop where they’d been put into a small group, and they’d both written about their parents dying, and some smug asshole had smugly mocked their poetry as overly confessional and sentimental, and claimed that true art was universal, not personal. And the two of them had to turned to him and ripped him to pieces. The dude had transferred out of the class by the next week. What had been his name? Cage. That was it. Cage Wallace. Pretentious fuck.

She grinned up at Bellamy. From then on, Clarke and Bellamy had been an unstoppable force. Allies. By the end of the season, everyone had agreed it was the best creative writing workshop anyone had ever taken and they all had grown as artists. She handed Bellamy her little poem pad without another word and watched as he read her chicken scratches.

She had always kind of wondered if something might have happened between the two of them. They were so close for that one class. But then he had graduated and she had, well, if not forgotten about him, then moved on. 

Bellamy huffed a laugh and handed her the poem back. His eyes were a rich, warm brown. 

“What?” she asked.

“Still so full of passion, I see. Like nothing can hold you back. Same old Clarke.”

Clarke tucked her notepad back in her apron and drew her eyebrows in. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

His smile spread across his face and she was, honestly, dazzled. 

“No, it’s a good thing.” He paused and she saw the uncertainty flit across his face. Her heart started beating a little harder. 

He huffed another laugh. “It’s just such a coincidence that I ran into you here.”

“I’m not sure I believe in coincidences,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes. She didn’t remember his shoulders being this broad.

He tilted his head. “All right. Maybe it was fate. Can I ask you a kind of weird question?”

“Weird?” Clarke asked, still hoping. “Go ahead.”

“Yeah, so me and some friends have been talking about starting a writing workshop, just on our own, because well, I’m working on a novel and my job is grinding me down. And they all want to take their writing more seriously, and you know, just in general we all kind of wanted to…” he laughed again, nervously. “So you wanna join our writing workshop?”

Now it was Clarke’s turn to laugh awkwardly. It wasn’t what she thought. But she had loved being in that workshop with him. And she was here in The Village to be creative. And she really knew no one but her room mate, because people from where she was from never made it south of 23rd street. Besides, she didn’t really like those people anymore. But she liked Bellamy. And she wanted to be in this world. She took a deep breath and it filled her chest. “Yeah. Yeah. I do. That sounds awesome.”

“Awesome,” he said. And his dazzling smile was back. Then he sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, I’m actually late to work. I just had to stop and talk to you. I’d love to catch up with you, but I need to keep my job. Can I—can I have your number and I’ll keep you in the loop of the workshop.”

Clarke bit her lip. This was closer to it. “Yeah. I’d love to catch up with you, too.” She said, writing her number on the order pad and ripping it off. She handed it to him. “Don’t lose it.”

He shook his head and tucked it into his pocket. “I won’t. See you around, Griffin,” he said and grinned, backing away.

“See you,” Clarke answered.

He turned and walked off down the street, looking back once. Then he was gone and Clarke stood there. Blinking.


	2. Wild Oats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke starts going to the writing workshop with Bellamy but not dating him, sadly. 
> 
> Although she loves the group and she gets to talk about writing and they go out and have fun and talk. It isn't until the girls start talking about sowing their wild oats and they start eyeing the guys, that Clarke has to face the fact that she really wasn't there just for the writing. Even if she doesn't think that she has a chance with Bellamy, especially not with the other girls going for him.

Bellamy called her. It wasn’t to ask her out on a date, but, it was to invite her to the writing workshop. They met every week on wednesdays, after hours at Miller’s office on Arkadia Place, from 7 to 9. They shared their poems and stories and novels and talked about everything under the sun. They called themselves The Arkadias. 

It almost made her laugh when Finn first proposed that they name themselves after the street they met on.. But Finn and Jasper and Monty and Luna and Harper really seemed taken with the whole idea of a literary tradition of some sort of Bloomsbury group. And Miller didn’t care. So she went along with Bellamy and Raven when they rolled their eyes and agreed. And now they were The Arkadias. She figured she could live with the pretentiousness of it because it was fun.

She liked everybody. They were funny and irreverent, even if some of them took themselves a bit seriously and others maybe not seriously enough. She’d been kind of cut off from her old friends, so meeting these people was good. It had become a tradition to go out after their workshop and have a drink at a nearby bar, even if Luna had to go home to her boyfriend and Raven and Miller had early days and never came out. She loved hanging out with the rest, all as friends. 

Tonight though, it was different. Luna’s boyfriend was away on a business trip and she’d decided to go out with them for the first time, and that set up a chain reaction until everyone was at the bar, filling up the couch area at the back, the neon sign in the fake fireplace pretending to be a campfire. Or they had been. Right now it was just the girls lounging with a fresh new pitcher of beer, while the boys were off mocking Jasper and Monty as they faced off in an “epic foosball challenge.”

“It’s nice to have everyone come out, huh Clarke?” Harper nudged her in the ribs with a spiky elbow. “Can you believe we got Raven to finally come? I don’t know how early you have to get to work, girl, that you can’t ever come for one beer.”

Raven kicked out her leg onto the couch where they boys had been sitting and rubbed her bad knee a bit. She snorted. “Yeah that’s not the reason I don’t come out with you guys.”

Luna swung by with a tray full of shots and set it down on the table between them. “Drink up ladies!”

“Again, Luna? This is the second round of shots you ordered in the last fifteen minutes!” Clarke protested, but she also sat up and reached for a glass.

“I believe in taking advantage of an opportunity when it presents itself, Clarke. If Derrick needs to take off and do his work, then I’m going to get the chance to have a little fun. Just because he doesn’t like the bar scene doesn’t mean I don’t, every once in a while. Have fun with me, girls. Dish the dirt while the boys are playing games.” She sat down nearly on top of Raven and then moved her leg so that it was propped in her lap.

“Raven was about to tell us why she never comes out with us,” Harper said, handing the shots around. “We thought it was because she had to work in the morning. But it’s not. Tell us, Raven.”

She rolled her eyes. “No. It’s because I dated Finn for 7 years and even though we broke up 6 months ago and we’re just friends now, I couldn’t stand to watch him making moon eyes at Clarke all night.” Raven tossed her shot back.

Clarke stopped with the shot glass to her lips and gaped at Raven. “What?”

Luna tossed back her shot and laughed. Harper drank hers with wide eyes going back and fort between Raven and Clarke.

Clarke swallowed at nothing. “What?” she repeated. “I’m not…”

“Drink the shot, girl. It’s okay. I’m over it.” Raven said and twisted her leg in Luna’s lap. “Rub my knee, Luna, it’s killing me.” Luna patted her knee and began massaging her. Raven sighed. “You didn’t think I wasn’t going to come out when Luna the massage therapist was going to be here, did you. God her fingers are so good.” Luna shook her head and laughed.

Clarke shook her head to clear it. Then tossed back the shot. It was awful. She grimaced.

“I mean, I totally get it. You are a total babe. It’s no wonder Finn’s been panting after you since we started the workshop.”

“No, he’s not. No, I’m not,” Clarke stuttered. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks. 

“You totally are. Look at the boobs, the eyes, the hair. And you’re so smart and driven. It’s sexy. Anyone would be a fool not to be into you.” Raven groaned. “Oh my god, Luna. Are you sure Derrick doesn’t want to give you up? I’ll take you.”

“You’d be surprised how many people aren’t into me,” Clarke said, low. 

“But how can you BE in a workshop with your ex?” Harper asked “I could never.”

“We’ve known each other our whole lives. He’s just family. He’s never not been there. It’s almost the same now, but we don’t sleep together. It’s been long enough. I’m ready to move on. I’ve never…” she put the shot glass down and reached for her pint glass, taking a long swallow of beer. “I’ve never actually been with anyone but Finn.”

“Really? Never?” Harper pressed. “Oh my god. I can’t imagine.”

“He was my first boyfriend. I lost my virginity to him at 16 and we were together the whole time until just recently. I should be moving on. Lord knows I’ve got a wandering eye, but, you know. I’m making my choices.” She grinned and took another sip of beer.

Luna patted her hair. “I’m so glad I got to sow my wild oats before I met Derrick. I mean, I’m probably going to marry him, but I’m also older than you girls. I had my time in the sun.”

“I want to sow my oats,” Raven pouted. 

“We need to help you make that happen.” Harper said, her eyes casting around the bar. 

Clarke was glad to have the heat off of her. She didn’t like to think of Finn being interested in her. She didn’t know why it made her uncomfortable, but it did. Especially with Raven sitting right there. She supposed he had been paying attention to her but she hadn’t really been looking for the attention. Monty chose that moment to raise his arms in victory. “How about Monty, Raven? He’s adorable.”

Harper made a face and Raven laughed. “I don’t know. He kind of feels like my little brother. Besides, I think Harper has a crush on him.”

“I do not!” Everyone looked at her and she blushed. “Well maybe a little.” 

“Okay,” Luna said. “He’s off the table, but…” her teasing tone of voice changed. “…He’s not.” Clarke followed her nod to Bellamy, tipping his beer bottle to his lips as he leaned against the bar and grinned at the boys and their hijinks. Clarke swallowed. His tshirt clung to his shoulders and his curly hair fell over his forehead so that when he looked out, it was hiding his eyes. Her heart stopped. “I tell you, if I didn’t have Derrick, who I love, I would be sowing some extra oats with him.”

Raven leaned back and put her arms along the back of the couch, her eyes tracking Bellamy up and down his body. “Oh yeah. I could climb him like a tree.”

Clarke felt a sharp spike of jealousy thrilling through her and she ducked her head to pour herself a beer. “Anyone need a top off?” she asked the girls as she held up the pitcher.

They ignored her.

Harper was nodding. “Yes. Good choice. I might have my eyes set on Monty, but I’m not going to pretend that Bellamy has not featured in some of my fantasies.” She leered at him and the girls poked her for details.

Not Clarke. Clarke topped off their glasses with beer, although no one asked for more, just so she could have something to do while her heart twisted inside of her. It was stupid. So stupid. She wanted Bellamy. But talking about him like they were seemed too much. It hurt her heart. It made no sense. Why couldn’t she joke with them and lust after him the same way?

She made the effort. “You should go for it, Raven,” and the words felt like dust on her tongue. She took a drink of beer.

“Go for what?” Clarke jumped as Bellamy spoke behind her, nearly spitting out her beer. She spun around and there he was, all shoulders and swagger and tousled hair, standing over her, with another tray of shots.

Raven swung her leg down from Luna’s lap and braced her forearms on her knees. “My dreams of becoming an astronaut,” she said with a sultry grin. “Shoot for the moon, you know?” 

“Now THAT is a good plan,” he said and returned her grin. Clarke felt a fire start to burn in her chest. “That deserves tequila.” He came around the sofa and bent over to offer her a shot from the tray. Clarke saw the smile they passed back and forth and she couldn’t look anymore.

He continued to hand out shots while the boys came back from their game, Miller hauling Jasper along in a headlock and throwing him into the last spot on Luna and Raven’s couch, before falling into the seat on the other end of the couch Clarke was sitting on. Monty shared the big chair with Harper, because she offered. The boys joked about who’d won the game and she pretended that she cared until Bellamy sunk down onto the couch right next to Clarke, holding a shot glass up to her. “Last one’s yours, princess.”

Clarke huffed and took the shot. He clinked his glass to hers and tossed his back, sucking on a lime slice. “No shot for you?” he asked as she did not follow suit. 

“This would be my third in fifteen minutes, so I’m trying not to pass out,” she said, pleased at her dry tone that did not at all reveal the turmoil of his leg pressed up against hers. 

“Ahh,” he said. “That would explain the groping I experienced while handing out the tequila.” His smile was so bright it near dazzled her. She almost took the shot just to deal with that, but instead, he slipped it out of her hand. “I’d better catch up,” he said, and tossed the second shot back, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. It was just the shots she’d already had that sent the warmth through her belly and limbs. She was sure. She licked her lips.

“Slide over, Bellamy,” Finn said. 

The two of them looked up at Finn standing there, his beer in his hand and an annoyed look on his face. 

Bellamy shot a look at the spot between him and Miller, but Finn didn’t move until he sighed and shifted over to let him sit next to Clarke. 

Clarke looked up at Raven, who had definitely clocked that exchange. So yeah. She’d been right. Finn was into her. Clarke didn’t know what to do, but then, Raven turned her attention to Bellamy, who was now sitting directly across the coffee table from her. She leaned forward and her shirt gaped and Bellamy was definitely staring down her cleavage, so Clarke wrestled down her jealousy and smiled as wide and bright and welcomingly as she could at Finn. Fine, she thought. If this was the way things were going to play out, this was the way. She could play this game.

She only momentarily considered that it might be the multiple beers and shots talking, but then she stopped thinking at all, and just had fun.

***  
The night went on too long, she thought, as Luna abruptly decided she’d had enough and left to catch a cab back to her place in Brooklyn, all by herself. To be honest, Clarke was sure that someone would have stopped her or at least made sure she was okay for the ride, but they were all blotto themselves, and by the time Clarke was getting ready to check on her, she was already gone. Harper, Monty, Jasper and Miller all left together, after tossing their cash down on the table, to take the subway, since they all lived uptown within blocks of each other. And Finn helped Raven, who was giggling and falling all over him, slapping him half heartedly on his cheek, snickering, “you are such a dick, Finn Collins. You still owe me a leather jacket from when you lost mine in High School.”

“Let it go, Raven.” He turned to Clarke, “Sorry,” he said, sheepishly, “I’ve got to take care of her.”

“I understand,” Clarke said. “Make sure she gets home okay. See you next week,” she said, and took a breath of relief when he left with Raven. 

It had been fun flirting with him, watching as his eyes kept dropping to her breasts and then leaning forward to tease him just a little bit with a look down her shirt, or the little innuendos that she pretended he wasn’t making. But at the same time, she was fully aware of Raven’s bright, almost forced laugh across the coffee table.

“Okay, someone didn’t pitch in,” Bellamy said as he threw the bill down on the coffee table on top of a wad of cash.

It was just Clarke and Bellamy left. She blinked, suddenly glad she’d switched to water two rounds back. She picked up the check. “Let me see. Maybe it was Luna? She left so suddenly.”

“No. She definitely left her money before she left. She left way more than she needed. Don’t worry, I’ll cover it. I think it was your boyfriend who skipped out.” Clarke looked at him puzzled. “Finn. He’ll have to pay me back next time.” He added a couple more bills to the pile.

She scoffed. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Does he know that? Because he sure was all over you tonight.”

Clarke laughed brightly and leaned forward the way she had with Finn, watching Bellamy’s eyes dip to her cleavage the way Finn’s had. She waited until he met her eyes again and then smirked. “You jealous?” 

His eyes darkened and she realized she should have stopped drinking way before two rounds ago.

“Yeah, I am.”

She gasped and blinked up at him and then he was leaning into her, one hand behind her neck to tilt her head up, his lips pressed up softly against hers.

She wasn’t even aware when her fingers found slipped under his shirt and began stroking his side, gently, gently, but when he pulled back, he looked dazed. “Come home with me,” he said.

“Yes.”

There was no more talk. He took her hand and they left the bar. His place was only a few blocks away and he kept stopping to press her up against walls and kiss her until her legs were trembling. When they finally got to his apartment, he led her inside and she got a chance to push him up against the door, leaning her pelvis into his and enjoying the thrill of his erection against her.

She moved to kiss him and his hands came to her shoulder to hold her back.

“Listen, Clarke, I just want to make sure we’re on the same page here. I like you, a lot, and you are super hot, but I’m not looking for anything serious or exclusive here. Are you okay with that?”

Clarke pulled back, a strange ping inside of her that she noted, and let fade away. She looked at him, seriously. He was so concerned. And she was sure that even though she could feel how much he wanted her, he would back off immediately if she was not okay with his terms. 

“I haven’t really been with anyone since my ex,” she said, “and I’ve waited long enough. “ She let her hand stroke across his broad shoulders and his hard pecs. Raking her fingers against his ribs and sliding down his flat stomach to cup his bulge. She leaned up to whisper in his ear. “I want to sow my wild oats. With you.” She took his earlobe with her teeth and sucked. She felt his dick twitch against her palm.

He groaned. “Thank god.” Then they were getting naked and lips and tongues and hands and honestly this was what she had been hoping for since she first saw him on the Greenwich Village street. Finally.


	3. Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends with Benefits with Bellamy Blake was great. Until she broke the rules and started to catch feelings. The attention Finn gave her was a reminder that she didn't have to be so focused on Bellamy. Finn wanted her. Why not? Bellamy had no claim on her at all.

They met at his place, sometimes, but not very often. It was too close to their workshop. They were keeping it quiet. The group was loud and boisterous and nosy, so they kept it platonic around others, and it was pretty hard to get rid of the crowd for more than a furtive grope in the shadows now and then.

Clarke had to admit that it added to the excitement, to have that secret that no one else knew about, to catch Bellamy’s eye and toss him back a wink. She’d made him blush like that once, and she tried to do it again, but never managed. 

Mostly, they met at her place, across town from everyone else. They’d roam the neighborhood and find little hole in the wall bars and cafes to go after they had sex, where they could just hang out and enjoy each other’s company. And she did enjoy his company. Probably too much, she was aware. 

But he’d made the rules. And she was okay with them. He didn’t want anything serious and she knew he was dating other women. So she dated other people too. There was the guy who’d come to New York to be bohemian and had dyed all his khakis black. He was sweet, but she went on one date with him and knew it would never happen. There was the cute girl who worked next door to her in the jewelry shop, who she actually went home with, one night, before realizing that she wanted more than just sex. 

With Bellamy it was more than just sex. They had so much fun together and she liked him so much, just being with him and talking about politics or art or history or their dumb friends. He made her laugh. No one made her laugh as much as he did. He was special.

Probably too special. No one else really measured up. And it was getting to be a problem. And there was no way she was going to tell him about any of that. She understood the rules. She wasn’t going to be the one to act the fool and admit she’d fallen for him. She was going to be aggressively not in love with him. Actively casual.

That was just the way it was. 

She woke up with Bellamy in her bed. He was still sleeping. His face relaxed and soft. She watched the morning light filter through the windows and touch his freckles, the fringe of dark lashes, the bronze of his skin. But she was familiar with him in her bed now and when his eyelids fluttered open, she grinned at him and threw his tshirt at his face.

“Get up loser, I’m hungry. We’re going to the Polish place to have pancakes.”

He growled and grabbed her around the waist. “I’m hungry now.” And he pulled her underneath him and bit into her flesh with tongues and lips and laughter until he had her panting, gasping, whimpering his name.

But eventually they did make it to Teresa’s, where she stole his bacon and he stole half of her maple walnut pancakes and he left her with a grin and a wink to make it back cross town to his own place for whatever plans he had that day. He never told her.

She watched him go down the street. “Dammit,” she said to herself. “I’m totally in love with him.”

A old woman pushing a shopping cart passed her and shot her a sympathetic look. “That’s too bad, honey. Men suck.”

Clarke stared after the old lady as she waddled off down the street in the other direction, feeling as if she had been some sort of message from god. This was a sign that she had to stop thinking about nothing but Bellamy. She tried.

The next wednesday, she read a story about the apocalypse and a band of intrepid delinquents trying to save the world. Her group thought it was symbolic of an uncertain world and represented the geopolitical climate of the times. But she, who wasn’t allowed to answer back during a critique, bit her lip and thought about how her story was literally just her trying to destroy these soft and gentle feelings for this dick who had taken over her heart. It would have been funny except Bellamy did actually talk about how in the story, the apocalypse kept coming back to challenge every bit of love still left in the world, and it didn’t matter how the survivors struggled, or died or were separated, it was that love that made the fight worth while.

The rest of the group thought that was so insightful but it just made her angry. He had no right to her heart. Those were his rules. And if she wanted to write about badass chicks fighting against the end of the world, she would. When she was finally allowed to speak, she managed to steer her response back to the geopolitical symbolism and avoid Bellamy’s looks and the workshop finished up and they all walked over to the bar. 

The bartender was used to them now and she set them up with their regular pitchers. Clarke stood at the bar to pick them up when she found Finn at her elbow. “You need some help there?” He said and smiled, grinning at her through his long hair. She couldn’t help grinning back at him. It was going to be another night of flirting with Finn. He flirted with her as often as he could. She didn’t encourage him, but she didn’t exactly discourage him either. Not with Bellamy sitting there. She glanced over at Bellamy. He was already seated in the love seat. Raven next to him, and she was laughing at something he said and a bright pink flush had risen to her cheeks.

Right. Platonic. Clarke was always forgetting about those rules. 

“Yeah, okay,” she said, and let her eyes flash a little at him. “You get the pitchers and I’ll bring the glasses?”

“I like it when you need my help,” Finn said, “When you let me.”

“What? Carry glasses? I am a waitress. I can handle this.” She laughed at him. He was being silly.

“No. With everything. You always have this idea that you have to fight the world. Like that story you wrote, about the apocalypse? You look at all of society as your enemy. But if you wanted, I could stand by you. I could be your hero.”

She blinked at him. “My hero?” She wasn’t sure if she should be taking him seriously.

“If you wanted me to be.” He tilted his head forward. His eyes dark and focused tight on hers.

She decided it was a joke. “You gonna tilt at some windmills for me? Save me from some dragons? Be my knight in shining armor?”

The bartender set the pitchers down and came back with a couple stacks of glasses. Clarke laughed. “Okay Finn. I’ll let you be my hero. Grab the pitchers.” He smiled widely and she was surprised by the twist she felt in her stomach with his unreserved joy at her words. Finn did not hold back with her, that’s for sure. He’d been showing his unreserved interest for months now. It was starting to grow on her. 

She found herself smiling back just as widely and the two of them walked back to the couch area at the back of the bar. Bellamy looked up, with Raven tucked cozily under his arm, showing him something in a book. He narrowed his eyes at her, at Finn, so quickly she thought maybe she missed it, because all of a sudden he was pretty interested in Raven’s book. 

Bellamy left early that night. She would have thought it was because of the way Finn was sitting so close to her, but he’d already told her his sister was coming into town for the week and he wouldn’t be able to hang out with her. He gave everyone a general goodbye before he left and never even caught her eye on his way out. She tried not to let it get to her, although she had to swallow a lump for a minute. It was easy to forget, though, because Finn really was trying to be her hero. He told her the craziest stories of his adventures in college, his stint out in San Francisco as a pool sharp, and summer studying icebergs in Alaska. 

They were exciting enough that Clarke wasn’t even aware when Raven left, and when they were all ready to close out their tabs and head out, Finn offered to walk her home.

“Don’t be silly, Finn, I live all the way cross town.”

“I thought we had this conversation already, Clarke, I like being able to help you out sometimes. You shouldn’t walk home all by yourself this late at night. It’s not safe.”

“I can take care of myself, Finn.”

“Or you can let me take care of you.” He let his hand brush softly up her arm as he said it. “How about it, Clarke? Feed my male ego a bit?”

She laughed at that. “Okay. You can walk me half way. You can catch a cab on Broadway, and I will be almost home by then. Is that a fair compromise?”

“It’s not really walking you home, but you’re stubborn, so I’ll take it.” He laughed and they said goodbye to the others. He helped her on with her coat, surprisingly gentlemanly. It was odd. Bellamy never did things like that. He always assumed that if she needed help, with the pitchers or her coat or a walk home that she would ask for it. It made her feel as if he respected her, but now with Finn, she had to wonder. 

It was kind of thrilling to have a guy be so solicitous of her. To look at her like she hung the moon, to want to impress her with his adventures and wit.

The walk to Broadway went faster than she thought it would, and her face was tired from smiling at his stories and wild flattery. It was nice. Made her feel wanted.

“So,” she said, on the corner. Rocking back on her heels a bit and looking up at him through her lashes. “This is where you get off.”

Finn stood there under the street lamp and looked at her longingly. He let out a long sigh. “I guess I can’t get you to let me walk you to your door?”

“Nope.” She knew he’d try it. Her cheeks were sore from grinning.

He nodded wryly. “You know I want to go out with you, right? Not as friends.”

“Do you?” She blinked at him, feigning innocence.

“Come on, Clarke, you know it.”

“Well you haven’t asked.”

“If I asked, would you say yes?”

She made a face and considered. She thought if he had asked last week, she would have said no. 

“I really want to go out with you Clarke. This could be something really special.”

Her heart twisted. Bellamy was special. But he didn’t want anything special with her. She took a deep breath. 

“Okay.”

“Okay? Really? You’ll go out with me?”

“Yeah. How about this weekend?”

He nodded eagerly and they made plans. When she left him at the corner, he stared after her. 

“You need to catch your cab, Finn. You don’t need to watch me.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna watch you anyway,” he said, a huge smile on his face.

She shrugged and shook her head. He was ridiculous. Then she walked down Houston street, and when she turned onto her street, she looked back. He was still on the corner. Watching her. It surprised her a little, but she gave him a little wave anyway. He held his arm up, high, like he was catching the wave, then held it to his heart.

She didn’t wait to see if he finally caught his cab, she just turned for home.


	4. Her Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke goes on a date with Finn. So she's pretty sure she's in love with Bellamy, so what? He doesn't feel the same way back. They're not exclusive and it's just a friends with benefits thing, but Finn actually seems to want her. She wants to be wanted. There's nothing wrong with that. That's what she keeps telling herself.

For their first date, Finn brought her flowers. They met at a nice Italian restaurant with candlelight and white table cloths. Clarke wore a red wrap dress that showed her cleavage and he couldn’t stop telling her how beautiful she was. She wasn’t sure if it was the red wine, the overwhelming scent of the lilies she had to set on the chair next to her, or the way he kept staring at her with melting eyes, and that grin, but she was almost dizzy with the whole thing. 

He treated her like the stories all said she should be treated. Gave her endless compliments and held her chair out for her so she could sit. 

Honestly, she’d never experienced anything like it. 

The pasta was kind of bland, but they shared a chocolate lava cake afterwards and Finn regaled her with more tales of his adventures on the west coast. Once there was an actual bear involved. 

“My life is simply not as interesting as yours, Finn. All my drama and excitement is in the stories I write,” Clarke said, and against her will a flash of Bellamy’s sleeping face crossed her mind. From out of nowhere. It wasn’t fair. She blinked and cleared her throat. “How do you find all these adventures?”

He shrugged and took her hand, playing with her fingers. His hair fell forward and covered one eye. “I could take you out there. You ever been surfing? I’d teach you.”

“I have never been surfing. I’m kind of a dry land gal. Maybe that’s why you have all the adventures. Mine tend to stay in cafes and books and maybe on a blanket in the park.” She laughed because it was a joke, but he didn’t laugh.

“I’d show you how to live life fully, Clarke.” Then he leaned across the table and kissed her. 

It was sweet and short. He grinned at her when he pulled back and she grinned back, looking around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. The waiter had.

She bit her lip. “You want to walk me home, Finn?”

His smile widened. “Yeah, I do.”

She didn’t tease him on the walk home this time. They held hands and Finn told her how gorgeous she was and how he could never take his eyes off of her and she was so brilliant and talented. She felt quite like she was blushing all the way to her toes, but he kept going.

At her door, she turned around and looked at him. “I had a nice time, Finn.”

He brushed her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Me too,” he said, cupping his hand behind her neck and bringing her in for a kiss.

His mouth was soft and tender and he pressed his tongue against the seal of her lips. She opened and he kissed her deeper. It wasn’t like Bellamy but it was very nice. The unbidden thought made her angry, so she pulled him closer and kissed him back. Harder. He groaned deep in his throat and his hands began wandering up her sides and back, brushing the sides of her breasts.

She pulled back. “Yeah,” she said. “You wanna come upstairs?”

He nodded and she grabbed his hand and unlocked the door, leading him up and into her apartment. She meant to offer him a drink but instead, they found themselves kissing on the couch. The tie on her dress slipped open and his hands roved over her skin. It felt good. It felt like he worshipped her a little. Like he couldn’t believe his luck to be with her, that’s how great he thought of her. She reached for his belt and he put a hand on her wrist to stop her. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he whispered into her ear, and she shivered because yeah. She was all for that. “Can I?”

She hummed an assent and pulled him back down for a kiss as his fingers tracked up her thigh. 

Good it was. She threw her head back against the cushions as he stroked her higher. He watched her come and then petted her back down. The red dress had come completely untied and had fallen open, and she was bared in her bra and panties to his wandering eyes and hands. He was still dressed. She had to admit that she kinda thought it was hot. 

“Do you have a condom?” she asked and he sat back. He shook his head.

“I’m going to go home.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I can tell you’re not really sure about this and don’t know if you want to get into anything, so I’m going to play the long game here, until you know.”

“The long game.”

“Yeah,” he said, as he straightened his clothes and put on his jacket. “I like to leave a girl wanting more.” There was the grin again. It wasn’t as charming this time. 

He leaned over her on the couch. “Don’t get up. I can see you’re still recovering.” He kissed her and his tongue delved into her mouth as if he was claiming her. Then he pulled back. “I’ll call you and we’ll do this again.”

Clarke opened her mouth to say something but all that came out was, “Yeah, sure.”

“Cool.” He headed out the door. “Bye, Clarke,” he said as he looked back once. Grin. 

The door closed behind him and Clarke really couldn’t move for a while. And it wasn’t from the orgasm the way he’d implied. She was a bit stunned at what had just happened there and wasn’t sure how this had all gone down. How did it happen? How did it end that way?

It took her a few minutes before she shook it off, switched on the stereo, and went to get a glass of wine. It wasn’t as good as the wine at the restaurant but she didn’t care. She tossed the dress into the hamper and switched into a tank top, sweats, and a cozy sweater and thought maybe she’d spend the rest of her night reading. 

Half a glass of wine later, she heard a whistle on the street below. Odd. It had been a pretty quiet night except for her date, her orgasm, and her date’s swift retreat. Not quiet. It had been an odd night. It was all odd. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of any of it. Something urged her to give up her cozy spot on the couch and look out the window. 

“Bellamy!”

He was riding a lazy circle on his bike on the street below. He looked up and saw her at her window and stopped his bike, propping it with one leg. He smirked and cocked his head at her. A question.

She nodded, her heart beating a mile a minute suddenly. He got off his bike and went to lock it up on the street. She pulled back from the window, putting her hand to her heated cheeks. 

“Oh my god,” she said. “Oh my god.” But she went to the intercom and buzzed him in. She opened the door and waited for him. She could hear him taking the steps two at a time. When he got to her landing, her heart was definitely racing. She didn’t say anything until he walked through her door, trailing his fingertips along her hipbones as he passed, and she locked it behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Bellamy?” Did he know? How did he find out about Finn? Why would he come here like this? He’d never done this before. 

He sat down on the couch where she’d just come under Finn’s fingers, and stretched his arms out along the back cushions. He raised one eyebrow and smirked at her. “Warm welcome, Clarke. I can go if you don’t want me here.”

Clarke shook her head to clear it. She didn’t want him to go. “No. I mean. I thought your sister was here and you weren’t available.”

He shrugged. “It turns out she’s sick of me and called up some college friends to meet up at some place I’m sure doesn’t sell underaged college students alcohol. I was left all by my lonesome and wondered what you were up to.”

“You couldn’t have called?”

His smirk faltered. “I wasn’t sure you were home. I went for a ride. Passed your window. Thought I’d take a chance.” The smirk came back. This one did something to her. 

Suddenly she was breathing heavily. He looked so good there on her couch. She didn’t know what made him show up out of the blue, but now that he was here she realized how much she wanted him to be here. “You want a drink?” 

He looked at the glass that was still in her hand and his smirk opened up into a smile that was so true her rapidly beating heart straight up stopped for moment. 

“Yeah,” he said softly, his eyes this warm brown like aged whisky.

She had to turn away to get him a glass of wine because she wasn’t sure if she could handle the way he was looking at her right now. She drank the rest of her wine in one swallow and then filled both their glasses

She handed him the glass and he took a sip, but put it down and patted the cushion next to him, his smile small again, twisting her insides. She sat down next to him, maybe not as close as she might normally. 

He sighed and took her glass out of her hands, putting it on the table next to his. When he turned back to her his eyes were liquid. He brushed her hair back and let his hand settle on her neck, tangling there in her waves. “You know I missed you, right?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You missed me, really?”

He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Of course I missed you. Do you think I don’t like spending time with you?”

She stared at him now. Wondering if he was testing her. “Yeah. I know you like spending time with me.” She shrugged off her sweater and leaned forward to press a kiss to his collarbone. He shivered under her lips.

“No,” he said as she nibbled his skin and ran her hands under his shirt. “I like you.”

She thought she should be happy to hear those words. But they just twisted the knife. “Yeah,” she said gruffly, “I like you, too.” And she pressed him back, unzipping his pants and stroking him. He got harder under her touch. “Do you like that?”

“Fuck, Clarke, yeah.” She climbed into his lap and took off her tank top so he could press his lips to her skin. “Yeah, baby. Clarke,” he said between kisses, his hands grasping her back as she continued to work him. “Clarke.”

Clarke swallowed down her feelings and yanked his shirt off of him, breaking his kisses on her breasts. She threw the shirt on the ground and he leaned up to kiss her mouth, but she climbed off of his lap and instead, shoving his shoulder so he was prone and dropping her sweats and panties to the floor around her ankles. She stepped out of them and stood before him naked.

“This is why you came, right?” she said as he lay on the sofa half dressed, staring up at her. He looked wrecked. Thrown. The way she felt. She sank down onto him without preamble. They both groaned as she began to move.

“Fuck Clarke, no. Fuck. Wait.” He sat up and stilled her with strong hands to her hips. “Wait,” he said, he tried to kiss her again and she turned he head. “Shit no. That’s not what this is about. Stop.”

Her breath was broken, gasping. 

He kissed her cheek, smoothing her hair back. Kissed her jaw. Kissed her ear. Her temple. She sighed. “Clarke,” he whispered and she turned her face to him. He pressed his lips to hers, softly and hers opened under his because she was weak. He didn’t push to possess her, he just nibbled and licked and kissed her. She breathed into his mouth and he wrapped his arms around her, holding onto her shoulders, pressing his chest into hers. “I came for you, Clarke. Just you, okay? No games. I just wanted to be with you.”

She kissed him back now, his lips so close she couldn’t help it, and it made her feel those things again. She was weak. And she didn’t care anymore. “Okay,” she said. “But you like this, too, right?” She started moving again. Slower. Closer. She put her arms around his neck so she could kiss him too. She had to. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Please.” Then he moaned and lifted her, flipping her so she was laying on the sofa and he was above her. “Okay?” She liked it because she wanted to kiss him. Right now. With him moving inside of her. 

“Please,” she whispered, unable to talk anymore. And she didn’t know what to call it. There were no words for what they were doing. They were all either too much or not nearly enough to describe it, but she came with his forehead pressed to hers and stars behind her eyes and his sweat mixing with hers where their chests pressed tightly together, and then they lay there, close on the sofa. His big hands caressing her, everywhere he could reach, his lips at her ear, her neck. 

Their bodies cooled off and they still lay wrapped around each other on the couch and she remembered the other man who was there not twenty minutes before and she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what was right anymore. What she should do or why her heart hurt. 

“You’ve got goosebumps,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. Another time and she would invite him to spend the night. Instead, she got up and put on her sweat pants. Grabbing the sweater and pulling it on over her bare chest, holding it together with crossed arms. 

“Hey, your sister is probably going to miss you if you’re not home.”

He blinked and looked up at her, still naked, golden skin glowing in the lamplight. “Yeah?” he asked, and she didn’t respond. “Yeah,” he agreed, wiping his hand over his face. “You’re right. She came all this way to see me. I should at least be there in the morning when she wakes up hungover. Maybe I’ll take her to Teresa’s for breakfast.”

She smiled at him. Of course. He should leave. It’s what should happen. They weren’t together. They were just…what they were. 

He got dressed and she walked him to the door. “Hey.” He stopped before opening the door. “I’m sorry for just showing up like this. Next time I’ll call. I honestly didn’t think you’d be here.”

She shook her okay. “It’s okay. I’m glad you did.” But there was something she didn’t know how to say and it just sat there between them.

“Hey,” he said again, not making a move for the door yet. 

“Hmm?”

He just stood there, his eyes roving over her face, his breathing steady and slow, until he leaned down and kissed her one more time. He held her face in his hands and she melted against him. She felt it all the way to her toes. To the top of her head and then almost as if she was floating outside of her body.

When he pulled away finally, she had to lean back against the wall to keep herself steady.

“I’ll see you around?” 

“Of course,” she said. He smiled, relieved as if he was actually worried she’d say no. Even though he wasn’t asking for anything at all. He kissed her forehead. And opened the door.

“Bye Clarke.”

“Bye Bellamy.”

She closed the door without waiting to see him leave and pressed her head up against it. She didn’t know what she was going to do.


	5. Needed Neither

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke had a choice between Bellamy and Finn. Neither of them knew about the other, but it was tense. Awkward.   
> The both wanted her, but what were they looking for? She wasn't sure what she wanted at all.

The next week, Bellamy wasn’t at their workshop. She knew he wouldn’t be. His sister was still in town. He’d planned for it and they all knew. And yet. She still felt like something was missing without him. It felt off. The rest of the crew was going out for drinks, but Finn kept catching her eye and giving her that grin, and it kind of felt as if the world was spinning at the wrong speed a bit. 

She begged off the bar, saying she was exhausted, saying she was getting sick. She wasn’t sure if she was or not. She felt a little sick. She felt a little like she was understanding things better and they didn’t make her feel good. They made her feel like she was a out of control of her life. Like she had gotten in over her head. 

She needed to sort out some things, and it made it easy to beg off when Finn caught her outside of the workshop to see if she wanted to go out that weekend. She made her excuses and ran. 

And when Bellamy called that weekend, saying he had an hour to meet up with Clarke while his sister had an appointment, she suggested a coffee shop, not one of their apartments. She deliberately did not get dressed up for him. She wore overalls and her doc martins and her hair a mess. She wanted to show him that she could do this. Be friends. Friends with certain benefits, but just friends. She was up to it. And when he got his espresso and brought it to her table, she had managed her heart rate and smiled brightly up at him. “Hey Bellamy! How’s it been going with your sister?”

He smiled back warmly and sat across from her and regaled her with stories about all the trouble Octavia was but she could tell how much he cared about his sister, and he’d miss her when she went back to school on monday. The rest of the hour was spent talking about everything under the sun, except them. And she made sure to get up at the end of the hour and say she had to be somewhere, even though he’d made no move to leave and she, honestly, had nowhere to go.

“Bye Bellamy.” She kissed him on the cheek and ruffled his hair fondly, while he let his hand rest briefly on her arm, squeeze once before dropping it. 

“See you at workshop, Clarke.” He smiled at her and she knew he watched her go. Although she did not look back, she felt his eyes on her. 

It made her feel stronger. It made her feel like she could do it. It was just a momentary thing, the way she’d fallen so hard. An obsession. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be with Bellamy, really, anyway. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be with Finn, either. She needed neither of them. She even flirted with the jewelry shop girl again, but it didn’t go anywhere. She didn’t pursue it. Truth was, her life was full and interesting and she was painting every day and the cafe was busy. Things were good and she didn’t need anyone. She had just needed some space from both of them, Finn and Bellamy. They’d turned her head with their attentions.

She was much better by the time the next workshop came around. She was ready to see Finn and Bellamy. She got there early and joked with Raven and Harper and Jasper, and when Finn came in, he sat on the other side of the conference table shuffling his papers. It was fine. But she had to admit that she wasn’t sure she could handle it until Bellamy and Monty came in right before they started. Her stomach fluttered just a little when he caught her eye and smiled. But it settled. She was okay. She had just gotten carried away with fancies. 

Finn’s story was up for workshop, this time. They’d all read his story, a beautifully crafted retelling of Galatea, about an artist who fell in love with his statue and brought her to life with his love. It was poetry, really. And everyone was nothing but flattering. Until they got to Bellamy.

“You realize, don’t you, that this creation that he fell in love with is basically just a reflection of his narcissism, right? He made her into what he wanted and poured his soul into her, and that’s what he was in love with. Not her at all, just his idea of her. She wasn’t even a real person to him.”

Finn made a soft noise under his breath. “It’s a classical Greek myth.”

“You’re not supposed to talk during your critique,” Miller said drily.

“He asked if I realized.” Finn couldn’t hide his annoyance.

“You’re not supposed to ask the writer questions. The work is supposed to speak for itself,” Miller said, still dry, to Bellamy.

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “I know the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea.” He returned to his critique, and Clarke had to admit he had a point. 

She couldn’t believe she’d been so busy paying attention to the beautiful language that she’s missed the objectification of the love interest. Literal objectification. Galatea was a statue. A thing. Clarke was slipping. Maybe she’d been trying to look on the bright side of Finn’s story, because he was still trying to get her to go on a date with him, and she was still putting him off, always finding reasons not to. She felt a little guilty. He was so sweet and she was brushing him off. She was going to have to decide if she wanted to pursue something with him. Or not. 

They finished up the workshop and went out. She didn’t back out this time. She wanted to prove she could do it. Luna didn’t come and oddly, neither did Monty or Jasper, but Raven and Harper and Miller did. And of course Bellamy and Finn. She did great. Raven was a riot and Harper was too. Even Miller had his way with the spooky stories, although he was normally so laconic.

She knew Finn was pissed off. He wanted to get time with her, but she was having fun telling stories with the rest of them. They didn’t stay too long. It was a busy week for everyone, and they walked cross town together. But somehow, Clarke managed to end up walking alone with Finn and Bellamy, one on either side of her. 

They were talking about playing pool. Clarke didn’t play pool. So she didn’t say anything. She was wondering what the difference was between being cool and being awkward. She wasn’t sure which one she was feeling right this instant. She felt she should say something, but all she could think of was what she’d been with them both on the same night. What was there to say to that? She still wasn’t sure what was happening. So she stayed silent while Bellamy and Finn tossed stories back and forth about how badass they each were. Clarke blinked and listened.

“Yo, Collins!” Raven called from ahead. “We’re getting on the subway to go up town, you coming or what?”

He blinked and nodded his head. “Yeah, of course, hold up.” He turned to Clarke and Bellamy. “So, I’ll see you around,” he said, trying to look at both of them but Clarke knew he was just looking at her. 

“Sure, yeah,” and she made a face like it was no problem. Around. Casual. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, let his hand linger on her arm. Then pulled away and nodded stiffly at Bellamy and went off with the rest of the group into the subway station. 

Clarke and Bellamy were the only ones left, and they kept walking. A thought occurred to her.

“Bellamy, you don’t live on the west side. Where are you going?”

He nodded. “No I don’t.” They kept walking. They went a few blocks before he spoke again. “I wanted to spend time with you. I missed you. I feel like you were kind of avoiding me tonight.”

She blinked. “Avoiding you? I was just hanging out with my friends.”

“But not me.”

“You were there, Bellamy. We were hanging out.”

He nodded again. She suddenly realized he was the one who felt awkward. It was a revelation. He always seemed to be so in control. “I missed you. I was hoping I could walk you home.”

“Walk me home…” she said as they kept going towards her apartment. This was the test. Whether she could maintain her cool in the face of his pretty eyes and curly hair and the way he couldn’t actually look at her right now. “I’m not looking to fuck tonight, you know. I’ve been kind of tired and run down lately.”

“We don’t need to have sex,” he said and she briefly wondered why he changed the term from fucking to having sex. “I don’t like you just for sex, Clarke,”

Ah. The last time they were together. He thought she was mad he just showed up to fuck. “You don’t?”

“Clarke,” he said softly and stopped. She stopped too and turned back to him. He took her hand and held it. “Can I come home with you?”

The butterflies were active, but she also felt like maybe something had shifted in their relationship? Maybe it wasn’t just about her pining after him, wishing. “Just to hang out?”

His lips curved into a small smile that was too genuine to be called a smirk. It lacked his danger look. It felt vulnerable. “That actually sounds great. Shark week is on tv. We could watch that for a little while.”

“Don’t you have to go in to work tomorrow?”

“I can be late.”

She laughed and gave his hand a tug. “All right then. Let’s go watch Shark Week on my couch. You can braid my hair.”

“You joke but I’ll do it.”

She laughed and hugged his arm.

“I can do a mean french braid. You want two? Like a milkmaid? That would be hot.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s not a no.”

She rolled her eyes and took him home. When they stopped at a traffic light, he leaned over and kissed her, gently, on the side of her neck, right below her ear. It made her shiver but not in a way that made her worry for her heart, in a way that just made her happy.


	6. The Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These were the rules. She knew them. They were just friends who screwed and they were not exclusive. He was seeing other people. She was seeing other people. Everything was copacetic.
> 
> A. Okay.
> 
> She was fine. He was great.
> 
> Until one night, their two dating worlds collided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reignfier said:  
> Hey just wanted to send in a prompt. Just anything with jealousy. Maybe Bellamy gets really jealous of Roan. You do the whole jealousy thing so fantastically!
> 
> I am using this prompt. Because what we've got here is some MAJOR jealousy, whether he admits it or not. Not Roan, but there was too much jealousy here for me not to use it for this prompt. I hope it works for you.
> 
> It's not working for Bellamy. lol.

Clarke was better. She’d gotten a better hold on her heart. Put some distance between her and Bellamy. When they went for a drink that Saturday and he fucked her on her bed and stayed over, when they woke up in the morning and went for breakfast, it was great. She just really liked him and he really liked her it was light and fun. Just what they had meant it to be. Just sex. No big emotions. No commitment. Sowing some wild oats. Friends with great benefits. They weren’t exclusive. No one was falling for anyone. 

Perfect.

She was happy with herself for making the decision and it really kind of showed at workshop next week. She didn’t have to dress up, because she was awesome the way she was. It wasn’t about a guy. Not one or the other. Just about being her. Living her life. Living it for real.

Finn got there early enough to claim a seat next to her at the workshop and he flirted with her before it started. Bellamy wasn’t there yet so it didn’t even make her feel like she was keeping a secret really. It was easy. Bellamy slipped in after they’d already started but everyone was focused on reading Luna’s tale of a utopian society of fisher people. It was beautiful, with the metaphors of the life cycle and depth and wildness. She kind of wanted to read a whole novel on it, but Luna didn’t intend to ever pursue writing that far. It was a creative outlet for her, just something to pass the time with. She was so talented though it seemed a waste. But it wasn’t up to Clarke to tell Luna what she should do with her free time or her talent. Luna was free to do what she wanted with her life. It was all good.

And that’s what Clarke and Raven were talking about as they walked arm in arm to the bar, ahead of the rest of them. She wasn’t sure where the change of subject came from.

“So…”Raven said. “Finn.”

“What about him,” Clarke asked suspiciously.

“Finn and you…”

Clarke shrugged. “You were right. He likes me.”

“I knew that. So…”

“I went out with him once. I’ve been putting him off, I guess. I’m not really sure what he wants. What I want? He seems, really intense. Maybe he’s looking for something serious with me, and I just don’t know.”

Raven nodded wisely. “He can be intense. When he wants something he goes for it. He really likes you. He’d probably be up for whatever you were willing to give him,”

“Why are you trying to get me together with your ex?”

She shrugged this time. “I love him, but it turns out I wasn’t the one for him. I still want to see him happy. I think you might be good for him. You don’t put up with shit. He needs that. Because he tries to get away with it. He gets overenthusiastic sometimes, but he means well. He’s got a good heart.“

“Hm. Maybe. I’ll think about it.” They walked for a few more minutes in silence before Clarke had to ask the question that had been bugging her. “So, you and Bellamy?” she asked. They’d had a conversation. It was a long time ago, but they had. They were talking about boys. It wasn’t that out of the blue was it?

“Me and Bellamy?” she laughed a little bit and grinned. “Nah.” She shook her head. “I’m not gonna lie. I hit that. It was hard to resist, but it… it wasn’t right.”

“It wasn’t good?” Clarke asked, practically in shock, because yes it was, it really was. It was the best sex she’d ever had and she couldn’t believe Raven wouldn’t think Bellamy was good in bed. And she tried not to think of him. With her. 

They weren’t together. It wasn’t exclusive. And she’d been seeing Finn, and others even, so it’s not like it wasn’t the same as what she was doing.

“No, I don’t mean that. It was fine. It was hot. But it wasn’t what I was looking for. We didn’t connect that way. I wanted something more than just fucking, you know?”

She didn’t have to answer, thank god, because they got to the bar and everyone filled in, laughing and having a good time. The rest of the night was nothing but amicable and if Bellamy or Finn tried to catch her gaze, it didn’t take. The night ended and she went home and that was that. She had it all under control. She felt good about it. She felt powerful. She felt sexy. She felt wanted. She could do this. 

The next day, she called Finn and made a date with him for that Friday at a bar near her apartment but not too near. She didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, but yeah, she was going to try what Raven suggested and give him another chance. He was sweet. He was passionate. He wanted her. It meant something, right?

He was already there when she got there. He stood up and smiled at her so wide when he saw her. She kissed him on the mouth, meaning to make it light and friendly, but he cradled her jaw and kissed her deeply. Sexy. She felt herself warm up to him.

“I’m glad you called me,” he said when he pulled back, gazing at her with that intensity. He pulled the chair out for her and she sat down.

“I can see that.” She knew she had a blush on her cheeks.

He called the waitress over and ordered her a glass of wine. They just chatted until she got her wine and she took her first sip, then he leaned over the table, taking a hold of her hand. “I was worried, I’d done something wrong,” he said, looking up at her through his hair.

“What do you mean?” she said innocently. She tried to keep his eye, but her eyelids fluttered of their own accord and she retreated behind another sip of wine. 

“You’ve been avoiding me since that night at your place.” He smiled at her, an understanding smile, as if he’d caught her, and knew something about her. 

She thought about denying it. It would be easy to pretend, but she thought pretending might be a game, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to play games. No. She was sure. She didn’t want to play games. That didn’t mean she had to tell him everything going on in her life, or everyone, but she should be straight about what was going on between them. She sighed and put her wine down.

“Not really,” she said, “but I did need some time to think.”

“About what?” he stroked his thumb over her knuckles.

She thought about pulling her hands out of his, but instead, covered his with her own. “Well, Finn, you kind of said you wanted to be serious with me, and I’m not sure if that’s something I want or not.”

He pulled his hand out from under hers and took a sip of his whiskey. “You don’t?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I pulled back. If that’s your intention, to get serious, to be my boyfriend, how can I keep seeing you if I don’t know? Are you okay with seeing each other just to figure it out?”

His brows drew together and he set his whiskey down. “I really like you Clarke. I think this could be something real between us.”

“I get that. And I can’t say that it’s not flattering that you like me that much, and I like you, but I kind of want more if I’m going to commit.” She sat back. Realizing something for the first time. She looked up at him. He was very pretty with his long hair and soulful eyes, but it wasn’t just about him being pretty and romantic and playing a good game. “It turns out that if I’m serious about someone, I’m going to take it seriously. You threw me for a loop last time. I thought we were just having fun, getting to know each other, seeing if there was something there. And it escalated. Maybe it went too far physically.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“No, no. I did. It was… amazing. I wouldn’t mind doing it more… but I’m not sure I’m ready to commit to a relationship in order to get it. So I pulled back.”

His face darkened. “So you don’t want to see me anymore.”

She sighed. “Finn, can we find somewhere between being in a committed relationship and not seeing each other?”

He snorted. “Like what?”

“Like, maybe dating. You know? Getting to know each other? Hanging out? Without a commitment to be each others’ one and only?”

He took another drink and when he put it down, the ice cubes clanked in the empty glass. “This is not what I’m used to. I’m not a dating kind of guy. I’ve always been in a relationship. Dating?” He looked up at her. His eyebrow wrinkled. “This is new for me.”

She chuckled. She did like him. He was sweet. Like Raven said. His heart was in the right place. Maybe he just needed help figuring out that she got a chance to decide where her heart was, too. “If you want, I’ll help you figure it out.”

“Are you saying that you want to see other men?”

If the face that flashed through her head was Bellamy’s it made sense. Since she was actively already seeing him. “Uhm, it would be other men and women, but what I’m really saying is that you and I aren’t at that place yet where we know without a doubt that we want to close other options. You don’t really know me that well, Finn. You like me, but how do you know there’s not some other woman out there that you’d like more. Don’t you want to know that?”

He caught the eye of the waitress and raised two fingers for another round. Clarke took a bigger sip of her glass. She could use another. 

“So what you’re saying is that you want to be wooed.”

“Wooed?” She couldn’t help the smile on her face. Was that what she had been saying? Wooed.

“Yeah, wined and dined? Courted.”

“Yeah sure, Finn,” she laughed. Courted. That was cute. Not really what she was looking for (she thought of Shark Week and how Bellamy had actually braided her hair into milkmaid braids, and fell asleep on her lap, and all they’d done was sleep next to each other,) but it was cute. 

And so he turned his attention to wooing her. He played with her fingers as they talked. Told her more stories of his adventures in the Pacific Northwest, encouraged her to imagine her own travels. She was having fun when a shadow fell over her table.

Finn looked up. “Hey,” he said, surprised.

She almost knew already who it would be before she looked. Bellamy. He was wearing a button down shirt and crisp slacks, like he’d dressed up. And he was with a blonde girl in a tight dress and heels who blinked at them as she hung onto his arm. She was hot. Thin and tall. Great boobs. She got what he saw in her. She would have taken her home, too. 

“Hi Bellamy,” Clarke said. Blinking up at him like her heart wasn’t beating just a bit too fast. “What a surprise to see you here.”

“I bet,” he said to her. 

“Yeah,” Finn said. “This is a great bar. Isn’t it?”

“It sure is.”

“Hi,” Clarke said, holding her hand out to the pretty girl. “I’m Clarke,” she nodded at Finn. “This is Finn.”

The girl smiled. She was very, very pretty. “I’m Bree.”

“Do you guys want to join us?” Clarke asked. She was happy to see Bellamy. Bree seemed like a nice girl. Or a pretty one. It was hard to tell anything else.

Bellamy looked back and forth between Clarke and Finn and shook his head shortly. “Yeah, right,” he said, and led Bree off by the arm, into the upper room of the bar where they couldn’t see them.

Clarke and Finn watched them go.

“What was that about?” he said.

Clarke shrugged, took one more glance at the stair case Bellamy and Bree had disappeared up. “I have no idea.”

She knew. She did. But she didn’t. They were not exclusive and he knew it. The whole plan had been that they would be dating other people. And yet…

Clarke and Finn left after not much longer. They left before Bellamy and Bree did. Or at least, she didn’t see them come back down the stairs. She didn’t really want to think about what they were doing up there. 

Finn walked her home and kissed her. One kiss. That was all. Contained. Brief. No boundaries crossed, but he made another date with her for next friday. He said he wanted to take her somewhere special. So she smiled and agreed and gave him his goodbye kiss. He gripped her hips as if he wanted it to go farther, but she knew what he wanted and she knew what she was willing to give, so she waved him down the street and climbed the stairs to her apartment alone. 

It was still Shark Week. She got into her pajamas and took out her sketch pad and started drawing while watching sharks on tv. 

When the phone rang she wasn’t surprised. “You called this time,” she said.

“Are you alone?” Bellamy asked. “Can I come up?”

“Where are you?”

“Down stairs.”

“Bellamy…” she started.

“Please. I need to see you. I need to talk to you.”

She would ask about what, but she knew. She’d done nothing wrong. They were not exclusive. But she knew. “Sure,” she said. Would she regret it? She didn’t know. But she buzzed him in and left the door ajar for him while she tucked her feet under her legs and leaned against the arm of the sofa, waiting, with the sharks. 

He didn’t say anything when he came in. She heard him lock the door behind himself. But she was busy watching the sharks. 

He sat on the couch, and leaned against the other side of the sofa. He let his arm drape over the back. He watched the sharks, too. 

It was a while before she realized none of what was happening with the sharks was at all penetrating her brain. It was just whirling thoughts, about Bellamy and Finn and Bree and questions. 

“So Bree is super hot,” she said without really meaning to, maybe just not being able to keep the thoughts inside. “I’m surprised you didn’t go home with her. Or take her to your place. I would have. Nice boobs.”

“Really? Is this what we’re doing? I walk in on you and Finn, and this is what we’re doing?”

She blinked at the sharks. She had no idea what kind of sharks they were. They were swimming in the ocean and that’s about all she could tell. “You walked into a bar on a date with a girl.” Great white. It was a great white. “I was on a date with Finn. I wonder which of our dates was hotter. She good in bed? She like girls?”

He turned to her. She could tell he was staring at her. The energy was practically pouring off of him. She was watching a great white swim around a guy in a shark cage. She wasn’t sure if she felt like the shark or like the man in the shark cage. 

“You want a date with my fucking date?”

She turned to Bellamy. A fire surging in her belly suddenly. “I. Don’t. Know. Is she a good lay?”

He looked like he couldn’t catch his breath. “You’re fucking Finn Collins.”

“I don’t know why you care. You’re the one that set the rules. We aren’t exclusive. Why does it matter if I’m seeing him.”

“You’re fucking that dill hole Finn Collins and I have to see him every week. You’re not allowed to fuck someone I know.”

“Didn’t you fuck Raven?”

“That wasn’t…it didn’t…”

“Yeah. I know. That’s what she said.” She laughed. “You don’t get to change the rules because you don’t like the person. Finns a nice guy, Bellamy. Raven gave me her blessing. And you’re not allowed to tell me who I can and cannot fuck.”

He surged up from the sofa and started pacing her tiny living room. Like the shark, swimming circles. Finally he turned on her. “Does he know about me?”

She blinked. Thought about not telling him. Letting him stew. But she didn’t want to play games. Not with him. She shook her head. “We don’t have the kind of relationship where he gets to know everything in my life yet.”

“Yet.” His voice was dark and ominous.

“Yet. He wants me to be his girlfriend.”

He huffed out a broke laugh and raked his hands through his hair. Then he turned away from her, watching the sharks. She could see the tension in his back.

“Does Bree know about me?”

He did not face her. “She guessed.”

That made her smile. Now she wondered how far his reaction went when he huffed off from their table. Did he brood over her and Finn? “So she knows you well enough that she could tell you were upset.”

He turned on her. “We’ve been fucking for a few weeks now.” He glared down at her. 

She grinned and stretched out, humming in acknowledgement. “So she is good in bed. Repeat performer. Good to know. Girls: yes or no?”

He shook his head in confusion. “This is weird as fuck,” he muttered, before looking at her straight, as a challenge almost. “Sometimes. We’ve been with another girl together. One of her friends.”

Clarke’s jaw dropped open. “Really?” she leaned forward. “I’ve never been in a threesome.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“You wanna call her over? She’s hot.”

She watched him grit his teeth, the muscle in his jaw leaping. “You think Finn would like his girlfriend in a threesome with another guy and girl.”

Clarke grinned at him. She liked his discomfort right now. She was just being honest. Bree was hot. Bellamy was hot. Sex with him was great and she imagined bringing Bree in would be hot too. Bree even already knew about her and they’d done it before. Since they weren’t serious, it sounded like an adventure that she was up for. Even if it wasn’t on the Pacific Trail. 

“I’m sure Finn would not like it at all. But I am not his girlfriend. And I’m not sure I want to be his girlfriend. But I like what you and I have right now. And if Bree is willing, I think it would be hot.” She stood up and pulled her shirt off before wrapping her arms around his shoulders and licking a long hot stripe up his neck. “You wanna give it a try?”

“What the fuck, Clarke,” he said. He sounded angry. “No.”

Clarke stepped back. “What?”

“No. I’m not going to have a fucking threesome with you and some girl.”

Her eyebrows shot up.”Why not? You had one with Bree.”

“Because— put your fucking shirt back on.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Bellamy,” she said. And reached back to unhook her bra and drop it to the floor.

“Dammit Clarke. Fuck.”

She smiled. “You want to? Fuck? I do. If you don’t want to call Bree, that’s okay. But that’s why you came over right?”

His brows drew down in a frown. “No.”

Her hands were already pushing her pajama pants down her hips. She stopped. “You don’t want to?”

“Fuck,” he muttered, and reached out to press the flesh of her ass, just below the lowered waistband. He pulled her in. “Of course I do.” And then he was kissing her. He pushed her pajamas down and her panties followed and she was naked while he was still fully dressed, she pressed up against him and he bit at her skin, his rough hands roving, getting her worked up. Then he stopped. Pulled back.

“You never answered,” he said, his voice rough. “You never said if you were fucking Finn.”

Clarke panted, frustrated. “No.” She said and tried to pull him back towards her, but he wouldn’t come. “Not really. He got me off though. And I would have fucked him, but he refused until I agreed to be his girlfriend.”

“What the fuck? What a douche. Like, payment or something?”

“No,” she shook her head confused. “He wanted something real. He left until I knew what I wanted. What’s wrong with that? Those were his rules, right? We had our rules when we got together, even though they were different rules.”

He laughed a short, harsh bark. “And how long have you been seeing him?”

She sighed. “That was our first date. The night you came over without calling.”

He blinked and took a step back. “He was here? He was here that night? He got you off? And then we fucked.”

Shit.

He laughed. “Do you want to call him for a threesome?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She swallowed. “I don’t want to.”

“Because he’s boyfriend material.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on here, Bellamy. You said you wanted to see other people. You said we weren’t exclusive, but all of a sudden, you’re mad that I’ve been seeing other people. These were your conditions for this thing between us. And I said yes. Because. Because it was honest. Because I wanted you. Because I liked you and I trusted you and I knew what the rules were. Because I knew what the rules were I made sure to stick to them, and it wasn’t as easy as you’d like to think, Bellamy. But now you’re changing the rules.” She found herself getting angry. 

His face darkened. “I’m not changing the rules. I just don’t want it rubbed in my face. He was touching you. And then I was touching you.”

“Are you saying you didn’t kiss Bree goodnight and then come right up to my apartment?”

His nostrils flared. 

“Did you give her some tongue, Bellamy? Before you left her to come to me?”

His jaw clenched. 

“No? Oh. You were flirty with her then.” She stepped up to him and caressed his chest, pressing the softest kiss to the skin behind his ear. “Like that?” she said softly, tangling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. She felt the shiver that went through him.

“Yeah, that got me, too, when you did it to me on the corner last week. It was like a promise. Did she like it?” She pulled at his hair a bit and he hissed, his hands came up to her waist. “Does she know you like to have your hair pulled a little?” she whispered. “I bet she does. When you go down on a girl, you make that noise when your hair is pulled.” She laughed. “It’s a good noise. I’m not going to be jealous, Bellamy. You’re not mine to keep. I know that, and I made peace with it. But you’re mine tonight, right? You left her and you came to me, and this is us.”

“Clarke…” he said and his voice was helpless. 

“You don’t want to share her with me. Okay. You don’t have to…” she looked up at him and she felt dangerous. “You wanna tell me what she does to you? You wanna show me what she likes?” she took his hand and pulled him towards her bedroom, but he resisted. “Oh she’s doesn’t like beds? Creative huh? I like my beds. Am I too comfortable for you? Where do you want to do it? The table? The shower? Should I throw on a coat and we can go fuck in public somewhere? I’m not sure how that would make me feel, but I’m up to finding out. If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you, because we don’t play games with each other, right Bellamy? But we can play games in bed. You wanna pretend I’m her?”

“Jesus fucking christ, Clarke. Shut up. I get that you’re angry. I’m angry too.”

She blinked at him. “I’m not angry. I’m curious. Now I’m wondering what you’re like with other women. I’m imagining it.” She reached out to unbutton his shirt, looking at him to see his response. “You look nice. You dressed up for her. Does she like that? Does she like taking your shirt off?” She pulled it over his broad shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then she ran her hands over his muscles. “You’re so pretty. Just as pretty as her. More maybe.” She kissed his chest, over his heart and felt her own flutter with yearning. She pushed it down. “What would she do next? Blow job?” She reached for his pants and he grabbed her wrists.

“I’m going to need you to stop talking, Clarke.”

She looked at him and smirked, cocking her eyebrow. “Should I use my mouth in other ways?”

His eyes went liquid then. Sad. Soft. He took her face in his hands and brought her lips to his. His kiss was gentle, loving. It broke her fucking heart. His thumb swept over her cheekbone and she melted into him, because this was what she wanted. This kiss. This touch. Just him. Only him. 

He was right. She was angry. She was sad. She loved him and he didn’t love her. It didn’t matter how many people she dated or what kind of tough attitude she put on, being cool about it just being about sex and nothing else. It was a lie. It wasn’t okay. She wasn’t okay.

They didn’t talk anymore. He walked her back to her room and they made love in silence, and somehow, maybe because it felt so real, so open, so full of them, she had the feeling it was the last time.

She didn’t think she could do this anymore. 

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, but when she woke up, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I feel like this story is not really very fanfictiony. I hope maybe you guys are okay with that. Sometimes I resist the fan fiction tropes and can't make myself write them. Bellarke aren't exclusive, we see them dating other people and being sexual without commitment and maybe not being totally honest. They aren't showing that "true love" kind of thing that we see a lot in fandom, fated to be together, nothing else can work. Here, they're not fated to be together, they're trying out other things (which is kinda canon, isn't it?) and they're stumbling on their journey towards each other.
> 
> Maybe it explains my not being upset when they have other love interests on the show itself. I'm not very romantic. Or maybe I am, but I'm also kind of pragmatic about romance. 
> 
> If you guys want tropey-er fan fics, I will take prompts.


	7. Gone Already

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is in love with Bellamy and there's no pretending to herself anymore. Unfortunately, Bellamy won't talk to her after their last night together. It just gets worse and worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patience, my friends. Love and Angst takes time. I promise we'll get there. You can trust me. I ain't no JR.

Clarke painted a lot that week. It wasn’t her turn to be workshopped, so she didn’t need to have a story ready, luckily, because she really felt like she had no words lately. She painted in whites and blues and grays. Horizon colors. Trying to get some distance. She went to work. She hung out with Monty and Jasper and tried to figure out how dungeons and dragons worked. She talked to her mom and it was good.

On Wednesday, Bellamy did not show up at the workshop. 

“Where’s Bellamy?” Harper asked, thank god, because the question had been burning in her throat, but she felt like she couldn’t ask, not with Finn glancing at her the whole time.

Miller shrugged. “I dunno. Work is hard or something. He couldn’t make it.”

Raven snorted. “Your concern for your friend is touching.”

Miller shot her a dry look. “He’ll get over it. Did you read my story or not, Reyes?”

“I read it. It was beautiful, you bastard, and it made me cry.”

Miller scowled at her. “You’re not supposed to address the author directly. Stick to the text. “

Clarke grinned at that. She’d never believe he was hard and coldhearted again, because his story was a lyrical tale of love and longing and loss with some of the most breathtaking prose she’d ever read. 

Here she was writing about apocalypses just to cover up her anger over a boy. She was shallow. 

But at least she could appreciate beauty and truth when she saw it. And she did cry, while they were talking about the love scene between the main character and his boyfriend. Her heart stopped beating as Miller read that scene aloud to the group. 

“Are you okay, Clarke?” Raven leaned over and asked at the end of the workshop as she sat there with her head down, her hair hanging over her face trying to hide the tears that kept trying to fill her eyes. 

Clarke wiped her eyes. And smiled up at Raven. “I’m fine. Just kind of tired. It’s made me a little over emotional,” she outright lied. “I think I’m going to beg off the bar tonight.”

“No, Clarke, I wanted to spend time with you.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Not today. I’ll see you Friday.”

She got up to go and found Miller staring at her with a flat expression. 

“I loved your story so much, Nathan. It was a privilege to be able to read it.”

He grunted. “See you next week,” he said. 

As soon as she was outside on the sidewalk tears welled up in her eyes and blurred her vision. She hailed a cab because she didn’t want to walk all the way cross town. It would take too long to be able to get home and climb into bed and just cry.

***

Finn took her to a nice restaurant on Friday. Not as nice as one her mom would have gone to, but nicer than what Clarke herself could afford, now that her mom wasn’t paying for her. It was trendy, and shiny, and full of beautiful people, and everyone in there was far more stylish than she was. 

She was glad she wore a low cut dress, because her boobs often made up the difference whenever she wasn’t quite feeling like she belonged in her own skin. She knew it and she was okay with it. It was almost like armor. People saw her cleavage, not her. She could hide behind it. So her flower print dress didn’t quite fit in with all the cool people dressed in black, but Finn had a hard time regaining words when he first saw her, and she saw more than one person do a double take and check her out when she walked through the cool restaurant in her uncool flower dress. It fed her ego a little bit, and to be honest, she needed that. 

The host sat them at a table by the window and when the waitress came up to take her order, Clarke recognized her at once. Her blonde hair was up in a high ponytail and she wore a black button up that hid her figure, but it was Bree.

They stared at each other. Knowing. 

Finn didn’t notice. “We’d like a bottle of the merlot,” he said, “And could you tell us about the filet mignon special?”

Bree smiled, stiff and professional and turned to Finn. “Of course,” she said, and went into her waitress spiel. Clarke was glad she didn’t have to respond. Glad that by the time Bree came back with the bottle and opened it for them and poured her a nice big glass, she had regained her composure, and it was clear that they were both going to pretend that they weren’t both fucking the same guy. Politely. 

She paid attention to Finn as the night went on, responding with appropriate awe when he regaled her with his tales of heroism and environmental adventures and bravery and … she found herself not really caring what else. She watched Bree surreptitiously as she worked, and decided that the girl wasn’t just pretty she was also nice. And maybe she deserved Bellamy. Clarke smiled at whatever Finn was saying, but she knew the smile didn’t reach her eyes because it was all a facade. Finn didn’t notice.

Dinner was eaten and the dishes were cleared. Bree poured the last of their wine bottle for them, and Clarke smiled at her. Bree smiled back, and it was a real smile, and not the professional one she turned on Finn. She nodded at Clarke ever so slightly. Clarke bit the inside of her lip and looked down. 

Clarke had been an asshole. As pretty as she was, she didn’t want to sleep with Bree. Not the two of them alone. Not with the two of them and Bellamy. She’d just said it because she was angry. 

She didn’t want to sleep with anyone. Not Bree. Not Finn. Not the jewelry girl or anyone else. She just wanted Bellamy. She’d wanted to hurt him. She wanted the idea of her wanting someone else to hurt him. And it had. And she felt like shit. They weren’t supposed to play games with each other. And she’d done it. 

Did it make it any better if she didn’t realize she was playing a game with him when she did it?

Finn excused himself and went to the restroom and she was alone with her wine for only a moment. Bree came up next to her chair and placed a dessert card in front of her.

“Does he know?” She gestured at Finn’s empty chair.

“No,” Clarke said. So Bree was only pretending for Finn’s benefit. 

“It killed him seeing you two together.”

Clarke blinked up at her, fighting to keep the sting of tears away. She knew who she was talking about. “We aren’t exclusive. He knows that. That’s the way he wanted it.”

“Is that the way he wanted it?”

“Yes. He made it clear before we even got involved.”

“Huh,” Bree said. “He broke up with me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I like him but I’m not in love with him. And he’s not in love with me.”

Someone called for Bree at one of the other tables and she left. Clarke stared after her.

Finn came back and sat down. “Oh great,” he said, “the dessert menu.”

What had Bree meant, ‘he’s not in love with me?’

“Do you want to share one dessert or get two desserts so we can try them both?”

Had she put an emphasis on that last word? ‘He’s not in love with ME.’ 

“I’m into the lava cake so if you want to split we should do that, but I wouldn’t mind the key lime pie, either.”

As in Bellamy was in love with someone else? As in Bellamy was in love with HER?

“So what do you think? Lava cake or lava cake and key lime pie? Come on Clarke,” he grinned, “make the right choice. Both. I love your ample curves,” he looked down at her cleavage and winked at her. “You should try both desserts.”

Clarke blinked. Did he just call her fat? And imply that it was okay because he liked her tits? 

“No,” she said.

“No? Just lava cake.”

“No, Finn. I don’t want any dessert.” She sighed and reached across the table for his hand. “This isn’t working.”

“Okay. No dessert. I’ll get the check and we can go for a walk.” He looked up and signaled Bree for the check. She caught it immediately and dropped the tab on the table before Clarke even had time to get her thoughts together. 

She looked at Clarke before she turned to go, and gave her a tiny nod. 

“There’s a great view from the river over here. You want to go strolling by the waterside?” He grinned, and his eyes were flirty, and eager. He put cash down on the tray and Bree whisked it away. This time she didn’t look at Clarke, just went straight for the register. 

“No, Finn. I mean this isn’t working. Between us.”

His face fell. “Are you breaking up with me.”

She nodded. “I’m in love with someone else.”

He didn’t say anything, but she watched his breathing get heavier and his face grow dark. “Is it Blake?”

“Yes,” she said. Did she owe him every secret in her life? No. But maybe she owed him this.

“I knew it. He’s been sniffing around you the whole time, pretending to be your friend.”

“He is my friend. I’ve known him for years.”

“He’s nobody’s friend. Everything he does is for himself. He sleeps with everything in a skirt. Did you know he fucked Raven?” His anger was boiling under the surface and she saw his fists clench on the table.

“I did know that.”

“As soon as he gets you into bed, he’s just going to dump you anyway. That’s what he does. Sleep with girls and move on to the next.”

“Actually, we’ve been seeing each other for months.”

He gaped at her. “The whole time you’ve been seeing me?”

She nodded. “It wasn’t exclusive. We are both dating other people.”

“Both dating…” He drained the last of his wine. “You’ve been fucking him while I’ve been here trying to give you everything you could want and wait for you to be ready—“

“How could you possibly know what I want, Finn? I barely know what I want.”

“You apparently want a selfish ass who thinks he can do whatever the hell he wants.”

“Apparently I do.”

“So there’s nothing I can do to change your mind? “

“I’ve tried not loving him, Finn. Wooing me doesn’t help.”

“You’ve tried. This was you trying to not love him. That’s what I was?”

Clarke winced. She hadn’t thought that was what she was doing. But it was. She was an asshole. “Sorry.”

He stood. “This is bullshit.” He lashed a hand out and swiped the remaining silverware and dishes off the table. His empty wine glass crashed to the floor.

Bree was there. “Is something the matter?” She said solicitously and somewhat threateningly as she stood a little closer than polite to Finn. 

He took a step away from the table. Away from Bree. “Yeah something is the matter. My ‘date,’” he spit the word, “is a two bit whore.”

Bree smiled tightly and set the tray with his change on it down on the table. “Have a nice night, sir,” she said. 

“Keep the change,” he growled, then grabbed his jacket and left.

“Two bit whore. Wow.” Bree said.

“He’s a writer. He likes his perfect turn of phrase,” Clarke said bitterly and then choked out a laugh.

Bree turned to Clarke. “You okay?”

Clarke nodded. “I’m sorry about all this,”she said, gesturing at the mess Finn had left. “How much did he leave you?”

Bree didn’t even look at the change. “$3.26.”

“Prick.” Clarke opened up her purse and took out a couple of twenties, placing them on the tray. “Sorry, again. That did not go how I planned.”

“You planned that?”

She laughed. “No.”

“Well, you made the right choice.” She put her tip in her apron. “In my experience, guys who stiff the wait staff are almost as bad as guys who can’t handle rejection.” The bussers started sweeping up the mess.

Clarke laughed. “You’re right. I really don’t know what I was thinking. Thanks.”

“For what?”

Clarke shook her head. She laughed again. “I’m not sure.”

Bree went back to work and Clarke hid out in the bathroom a bit just to make sure Finn was gone. When she got out on the street she didn’t know what to do. She started walking and then she found herself in front of Bellamy’s apartment.

It was an irony. The night he’d shown up at her window unannounced and it had gone too far. Everything had been taken too far. And here she was at his window. She didn’t whistle. She pressed the buzzer. And she waited.

And waited. And waited. 

She waited for 15 minutes, for no reason, other than not really being able to move on. He’d broken up with Bree. Had Bree implied he was in love with her? She hadn’t even seen him at the workshop. She wanted to see him right now. But she didn’t get to.

She walked home, lost in her thoughts and when she got there, she immediately called him. He did not answer and she didn’t leave a message. She didn’t know what to say. She put on her pajamas and opened up a pint of Ben and Jerry and called him 5 more times. All night. There was no answer. She called the last time at 2 am. There was no answer. Maybe he was with another girl, sleeping in her bed. Because that’s what he did. 

She cried herself to sleep.

***

The next day she was waiting for his call. It was Saturday, and Saturday night was the night they always did something, whether they went out or stayed in, Saturdays were their nights. She didn’t know when it happened like that and they’d never made it their official night, it just happened.

But he didn’t call. At all. By three she called him. This time she left a message.

“Hey Bellamy, I thought maybe I’d stop by tonight? Or maybe you wanted to come over here? I could make dinner for us. We could watch a movie.” She paused into the silence of the machine. “Give me a call,” she said, sounding small to herself. And hung up.

He did not. 

***

She did not see him that Saturday. There was an empty place inside of her. She couldn’t paint, never mind write. That week, she watched tv and slept and went to work and ate ice-cream. She did not call Bellamy anymore. The week passed and it was workshop. 

She found herself trembling in the elevator on the way up to the conference room, remembering the times when he’d caught her there alone and kissed her madly before the doors slid open on the office floor, the voices of their friends laughing in the conference room, as she panted and tried to regain her composure. Now she was alone and just trying to calm her nerves at seeing Bellamy again. 

Miller was the only one there when she slid into a seat. She couldn’t look at him. She shuffled her papers instead. 

“He quit,” Miller said. 

She looked up at Miller in shock. “What?” 

Miller sat there, leaning back in her chair, sizing her up. “He quit the workshop. He’s not coming back.”

Clarke couldn’t breathe. “He can’t. It’s his workshop.”

“Yeah. Well. He says he’s done. What did you do to him?”

She shook her head. She had no words. She didn’t know. 

Before he could ask her anything else, Raven and Harper and Monty and Jasper and Luna piled in. They settled into their seats joking and laughing. Finn slipped in when they had already started, taking a seat as far from her as possible, throwing in cutting comments and shooting her dark looks all night. It was Monty’s and Jasper’s turn to read their work, and it was a hysterical fantasy romp with a sarcastic knight and a suicidal dragon and they had to find the key to saving humanity inside of a mountain bunker, and the key turned out to be a vampire princess named Maya who had to be saved from herself. It didn’t sound like a funny story, but it was, and whenever the conversation got around to her, that’s what she said because she had no words and no thoughts and she was pretty much empty inside. 

Bellamy was gone and she knew it was because of her. 

She begged off the bar that night and made her escape, but Raven caught her on sidewalk outside. She grabbed her arm and spun her around as she was trying to make her escape. 

“No way, Clarke. No way. You’re not sneaking off right now. What is wrong with you? You could hardly put two words together tonight.”

Clarke blinked at Raven and got ready to make up an excuse. She opened her mouth and out came a sob. “I’m in love with Bellamy.” 

Raven’s eyebrows rose half way up her forehead. Moments passed before she said anything. “Woah. Fuck. That sucks.”

And the sob broke all the way free and she was crying. Raven pulled her close and wrapped her up in her arms, patting her back. “It’s okay,” she whispered, “You’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”

And then they heard the elevator ding inside the vestibule and Raven pulled at her. “Come on, let’s get out of here before they see you like this.” She yanked her around corner, into the shadowed doorway of the next building, and they listened to the boisterous group leave. Finn scolded Jasper for his too casual depiction of a suicidal character, all the way down the street. “It’s not funny, Jasper, you have to respect the deep psychological burdens or you are not doing the issue justice and you should just not say anything at all. You clearly have no experience with psychological issues you have no right to write about them. It’s offensive.” Their voices faded down the street. Jasper made no response. Then the group was gone, on the way to the bar. 

Raven closed her eyes and shook her head. “So I guess you and Finn didn’t work out and that’s why he’s been such a prick all night.”

“I tried.”

“But you were already in love with Bellamy weren’t you?”

She nodded and tears dripped down her face. 

“Shit. And I slept with him.”

“You didn’t know. And we weren’t exclusive.”

Raven put her hands to her shoulders and pulled her back to look her in the face.

“Weren’t exclusive? How long have you been seeing him?”

“Since that night when you were all talking about how hot he was and how you wanted to climb him like a tree.”

Raven gaped at her. “You’ve been keeping that a secret since then? Jesus Christ Clarke, why didn’t you say something.”

“I don’t know. I was trying to pretend we were just fucking. But I wasn’t. Not ever. I fell so hard for him. Raven. He caught me out on a date with Finn.”

Raven blinked. “So?”

“He was so mad.”

“But you said you weren’t exclusive.”

“We aren’t, but he doesn’t like Finn.”

She laughed. “I’m sure he doesn’t.”

“And he was on a date with a girl.”

“So why was he mad?”

Clarke swallowed. “I may have told him to invite the girl over to my place so we could have a threesome because she was hot.”

Raven choked on nothing. “You said what?”

“I might have been mad, too.”

Raven started laughing. 

“Raven it’s not funny. I haven’t talked to him since. He won’t answer his phone or call me back. He missed our regular night together. Now he’s quit the workshop. Because of me, Raven. He’s just gone. Raven. It’s like he’s left a hole inside of me. I didn’t even realize he was there.”

“Shit. You really are in love with him.”

The tears broke out again. Raven hugged her tight. “I tried to stop it. I couldn’t stop it.”

“I’m not sure if love works like that,” she said, her voice weary, like she wasn’t unsure. Like she knew. Raven let her cry and when it was done, she asked, “do you want me to walk home with you?”

Clarke laughed. “Why is everyone always trying to walk me home? Do I look that vulnerable?”

“Shut up, let’s go. I want to get a slice on the way.” Raven hooked an arm into hers and they headed to Joe’s pizza down the street. The pizza didn’t quite fill the hole inside of her, but it, and Raven’s company, gave her strength again. 

They started walking again but the detour took them down a familiar street. Clarke found her feet stopping as she stared up at Bellamy’s window, the lights flickering with the glow of a television. 

Raven turned. “What—“ She followed Clarke’s gaze up. “Shit is this his place?”

“You’ve never been?”

“No,” she said, without elaborating on anything else about their relationship.

Clarke sighed. “Do you think he’ll talk to me?”

Raven shrugged. 

“I feel like I need to talk to him. I just woke up and he was gone. We never talked. He hasn’t talked to me since then. I just don’t know what’s going on, and it’s killing me. Shouldn’t he at least have the decency to tell me he’s done with me?”

“You want to talk to him now.”

The flickering light from Bellamy’s window drew her. “Yeah.”

“What do you want me to do, Clarke. You want me to come with you? Wait here? Go home?”

Clarke squared her shoulders like she was going in to battle. “You can go,” she said, sounding more confident than she felt. “I got this.”


	8. Idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke faces Bellamy, finally. After they fight, after he leaves, after she can't reach him. After he quits the workshop. 
> 
> What else can she do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the last one. There will be one more (I think) on Bellamy's POV, Just Having Fun. It's weird writing the story as if it's separate, but having them kind of interlock. Experimental almost.

Clarke dithered at the buzzer, waving Raven off. She didn’t want witnesses. She felt like an utter idiot. A fool. A glutton for pain.

Raven left but Clarke stood, afraid to press the button marked ‘B. Blake.’ That would commit her to facing him. 

“Hello, dear,” the lady from down the hall said as she walked up the steps. “Are you here to see Bellamy?”

Clarke nodded, unable to speak as the lady unlocked the front door and held it open for her. They talked about the weather as they went up stairs together and she went in her own door, leaving Clarke outside of Bellamy’s.

She could have stood there all night, trying to work up the nerve, instead, she just raised a hand, far before she was ready, and knocked, firmly.

What’s done was done now. She heard a rustling from inside. “Vera,” he called. “You can stop giving me muffins,” the door opened. Bellamy was there, in the process of pulling a shirt over his head, flashing his abs and then pulling it down. “I’m not that bad off, Ver—Clarke,” he said when his eyes cleared the neck of the shirt.

She swallowed. “We need to talk.”

He blanched. His freckles standing out in stark contrast to his suddenly pale skin. He stood, the door half open.

She laughed but it sounded a little like a sob. “You gonna let me in or are you going to close the door on me? I figure it’s like 50/50 either way.”

The muscle in his jaw leapt and he glared at her. The color came back into his face and it darkened. He nodded, his lips pressed together. He stepped back and gestured for her to enter without ever saying a word, and walked over to the other side of the room, leaving her to close the door with a snick.

She had a sudden flashback to the first time she’d been to his apartment, pressed up against that door, lips and hands and heat. Their first night together. So much had happened since then. They’d been so close then, so ready and willing and now everything was silence.

He did not speak. He had his back to her, one hand propped on his bookshelf, like he was reading the spines or something, but she knew he wasn’t. She didn’t speak either. 

She didn’t know how long they stood there like that. The muscles of his back were so tense. He refused to look at her. She stood and just breathed. That was all she could do for a while. 

He sighed raggedly. “Just get it over with, Clarke,” he ground out. His voice was heavy and rough.

It grated against her tender heart and she was not going to cry again. She was not going to. Not until she told him that she loved him. Even if he didn’t love her back. She couldn’t do this anymore without her heart breaking. So that meant she couldn’t do it. But she still had to tell him. Just this once, and then she’d let him go.

“We’re not okay, Bellamy.”

He laughed bitterly and turned to her. “You think?”

His hair, wild on a normal day, was a mess. His shirt was stained and he had shadows under his eyes and a half grown beard. He looked terrible and Clarke just wanted to pull him to her and hold him. 

She restrained herself, wrapping her arms around her own waist to keep from reaching out to him.

“This isn’t working anymore.” She was miserable. Her voice was small and tight. She thought she might fly apart, so she held onto herself tighter.

It wasn’t until he dropped his head and his shoulders sank as if they were under a heavy burden that she realized he’d been staring at at her, drinking her in. Now stared instead at his own bare toes as they twitched on the old wood-plank floor.

“It hurts Bellamy.”

He laughed again. That bitterness. “No shit.”

“It was supposed to be easy.”

He let out a harsh sigh and looked up at her, running his hands through his hair and making it stand up even more on end. “Just fucking get it over with, Clarke. Rip the bandaid off. It isn’t going to hurt any less with you trying to spare my feelings.”

Clarke blinked. “Spare your feelings?”

“Are you surprised I have them?”

“What? Bellamy, no. I just meant that this whole thing where there were no strings attached? It was your idea. It was supposed to be easy. Keep it light. Fun. But it didn’t work at all. You said it would be easy.”

He ran his hand through his hair again. One piece stuck straight up. He was a mess. “I get it Clarke. You’re not interested in us. You’re done with me.”

“I’m—“ she was confused. This conversation wasn’t going the way she had planned. Planned? She hadn’t planned. And yet her heart leapt a little. “Is there an us?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Clarke. Stop. I can’t do this with you. If you want to break up just tell me.”

Clarke took a step towards him. “Bellamy. I didn’t know there was an us.”

The look of pain he sent her shot through her. She gasped. She had her arms around him before she realized she had moved any closer. “Bellamy…what?”

“How could you Clarke? How could you think there wasn’t— How could you…” his words faltered. He choked them back. “I’m a fucking fool. Of course you don’t think there’s an us. Why would you?”

“What do you mean, Bellamy. You told me we weren’t together. You told me we were just friends. Don’t—don’t tell me this. You said those were the rules. We wouldn’t get attached.”

“It was a lie.”

Clarke took a step back. “A lie?” It was like a wash of cold water chilling her. They were a lie? It was all a lie?

The bitter laughter came back. “A lie. I didn’t lie to you. I didn’t mean to. I lied to myself. No strings.” He snorted. “I was already attached to you Clarke. I thought we could just have sex and it wouldn’t be anything because you were just awesome and I love being with you and I’d get to, you know? Get to hang out with you and kiss you,” he smiled, reach a hand up to touch a lock of her hair. He dropped his hand sadly. “You’re right. This isn’t working. I can’t watch you going out with other people, falling in love with some one else. Moving on. I did it to myself. I messed it all up.”

Clarke found herself shaking her head in disbelief. At a loss for words.

He watched her again. The bitter laugh. The hand through his hair. “I have no one to blame but myself. Those were the rules. I thought they would keep me from falling in love with you, but they didn’t. Not a bit. They were too fucking late.”

She blinked. Her mouth suddenly dry, she swallowed. “C-could I have something to drink.”

He sighed, frustrated. “Yeah, of course. I’m so…yeah. I have some beer, or water, I think I have some coke in here somewhere. Do you want me to make some coffee?”

Clarke sank down on his old futon sofa and looked up at him as he moved to the kitchenette area. 

“What would you like?” He didn’t look back at her, but it was a small apartment. 

“Beer.” He was playing host now. He said he was in love with her and now he was pretending he didn’t say it and was playing host. 

She heard him rustle around in his mini fridge. “So I quit the workshop, you can keep it.” He spoke into the fridge. Pulled out some beer. She heard him pop them open on the counter. “I know it was really important to you. Don’t worry. I’m not going to mess that up for you. This was all my fault. And if you want to date Finn Collins, of course,” he paused, “it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have tried to tell you what to do.” For a moment she thought he might go on, but he didn’t. She still didn’t have words. 

He came back and gave her the beer, sitting on the other side of the futon, perched on the edge like he was going to jump up at any moment. He took a long pull at his beer, kept his eyes trained on his bookshelf. 

She drank too. It helped the dryness in her mouth a little bit. She wasn’t quite sure what was happening. She thought something might be. Something important. Something good even.

“So I guess this is it,” he said.

“It?” the word was like a whisper in her throat.

He took a drink. “The last time for us. The last time we’ll see each other.” He wouldn’t look at her. His jaw was tight and his shoulders were like rock. 

Her heart wanted to squeeze itself shut. The idea of not seeing Bellamy again, it hurt more than anything else had. “Is that what you want?”

He laughed again. Let his head fall back on the futon and he covered his eyes with his arm. “No of course it’s not what I want. I want you to tell that douche Collins to go to hell and then I want you to stay here with me and be my girlfriend and not date anyone else, I don’t care how great they are, in fact if they’re great I want you dating them even less, because I don’t want you falling in love with them. I want you to fall in love with me. But we don’t get what we want, do we?” And then he kind of sank into the futon and his arm dropped to his side. He turned his head and looked at her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

She took a sip of her beer then set it down. She slid across the futon to sit next to him, one leg tucked under her. She took his beer bottle out of his hand and set it down too, then she turned to face him. “I told Finn to go to hell.”

His eyebrows shot up into his forehead. “Really?”

“Not in so many words. But yeah.” She sighed. “I don’t want to date Finn. I don’t want to date Bree. I don’t want to date anyone.” His eyes never left her face. “But you. That’s why I said this wasn’t working, Bellamy. Because I love you, and it hurts too much to pretend I don’t.”

He shook his head so slightly. “But you were with Finn, and what you said about Bree…”

“Bellamy, you were with Bree, and far more than I was with Finn it sounded like.”

A smile broke on his face. “You were jealous.”

“Of course I was jealous! But I spent all these last months trying to pretend I wasn’t, because these were our rules and I knew it going into this. I would have been a fool to be jealous, I would have been a hypocrite. I would have been… a sucker. We weren’t going to get serious, but somehow my heart didn’t get the message. I tried so hard not to be in love with you Bellamy. Why do you think I went out with Finn? I was trying to make us just friends, Bellamy. I was trying. But it didn’t work. I’m so damn in love with you I don’t know what to do anymore.”

He let out a little puff of breath and blinked. He laughed. It wasn’t bitter. “So you’re saying I DO get what I want this time.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t get to sleep around with other girls. That’s what you don’t get. I’ll tell you that.” Her words were sharp and angry and she was surprised at herself.

His smile spread across his face and it was like the the dawn, the stars and the sun all at once. He reached out and took her hand in his. “I don’t want that, Clarke.”

She glared at him. “Well that’s what you wanted before.”

“I was stupid. I was so stupid.” He reached out and tangled his fingers in her hair and brought her in to kiss her.

She stopped him, with a hand on his chest. “You love me.”

His lips curved into a smile, his eyes soft. “I love you so much.”

“And you’re NOT going to see any other girls from now on.”

She felt his fingers along the back of her neck, caressing her. He licked his lips. “No other girls. I promise. I don’t want them. I never did, really. I was trying to prove something. To myself. To fucking Miller. That I wasn’t in love with you. But it was never right with them. It was always just a game. And it was making me miserable, no matter how I tried to convince myself. I just wanted you.”

Clarke reached up to touch his cheek. His scruffy beard was so long she could tug on it. “This was all supposed to be honest, Bellamy, but we were just playing games with our hearts. No more. No more games.”

Bellamy sighed. He smiled. “No more games. I love you. I want you to know. I want everyone to know. I want you… with me.” There were tears in his eyes as he kissed her high on her cheekbone.

“Yeah,” she nodded. Leaning into him as he pressed small kisses down the side of her face. “No more games. Honesty. Exclusive.” She grabbed his biceps and squeezed.

“Yes, exclusive,” he whispered into her ear. “Just us.”

“Together.”

“These are the new rules. Just you and me. No one else. No guys. No girls. I love you.”

“Yeah,” she said, as he began to nibble on her ear. She pulled back, stood up, taking his hand and bringing him with her. “Come on, let’s go to your bed, boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend, huh? That’s what you’re calling me now?”

“Every chance I get.” She pulled his shirt over his head and pressed a kiss to the muscle over his heart. 

“I’ll give you all the chances you want, Clarke. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna lose you. I don’t want to mess this up again, please? I just want to be with you. All the time. I thought you were coming here to break up with me.”

“I was. I guess. Because I couldn’t do this friends with benefits thing anymore. I wanted to love you, for real. I wanted you to love me back.”

“And now we get that.” He sighed, and it was full of relief. And happiness.

She smiled. She felt it too. She’d felt so hopeless and heartbroken and now, it was like everything was the way it should be finally. She pressed a kiss to his mouth. He smiled against her lips.

“Come on, Bellamy, let’s go to bed. I’ve missed you.”

She pulled on his arm to lead him to his room but he resisted.

“Wait.”

Clarke got nervous. “What’s wrong.”

He grinned. “Absolutely nothing. Did everybody go to the bar tonight?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t go with them, I couldn’t… face them. I couldn’t… I had to figure things out with you.” The zing went through her again, the panic she’d felt when she thought she’d never see him again. “But they went. It was Jasper’s and Monty’s story.”

“Let’s go,” he said. He raised an eyebrow at her

“What, now?”

“Yeah. Together. The two of us. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Let’s go hang out with our friends.” He grinned like he wanted to get into trouble.

“You just want to show Finn you won.”

He showed his teeth. “That’s a bonus. Mainly I just want everyone to know how much I love you. Who you are to me. That I’m yours.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Clarke said, and pulled him down into a passionate kiss that he ended far before she wanted him to.

“Later, babe,” he said. “First let’s go brag that we finally got our shit together, then we can make love all night long.”

“Don’t you have work in the morning?”

“Who cares?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“But I’m your idiot.”

***


End file.
